Antidote
by cagedDigital
Summary: Tony's life is falling apart, and he has lost all hope for his future. Honestly, Loki just needs a place to stay. Post-Avengers Movie
1. Chapter 1

It was raining when he came.

It fell from the sky, from clouds grey and bleak as Tony stared out of his living room window, leaning against the bar in his tower. Pepper had left just a few minutes before, storming out after another fight about the same damn things, every fucking time the same things.

But this time had been different.

This time she hadn't backed down. This time Pepper hadn't given in, accepted that Tony couldn't, no, wouldn't change for her. The last mission had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Pepper was done. She had left saying that she would stay on at Stark Industries, but she couldn't keep loving a man who loved pieces of metal more than he valued her. She was done.

Tony stared out the window, sipping at his scotch almost as a second thought. Usually he would have downed his drink in a heartbeat, refilling before he could even process his own actions, seeking refuge in the bottom of a bottle and never looking back, but this time he couldn't. Pepper had been his only hope, the only one who could have loved a man like Tony, so broken, beyond repair. There was no hope for him, now. No light at the end of the tunnel.

Tony stared out the window, mind blank and numb. It was raining.

"Sir, it appears Mr. Loki Odinson has appeared in your kitchen. Should I alert SHIELD?"

"Oh, perfect. Reindeer Games? Just what I need right now. Thanks, JARVIS, I think we can leave Fury out of this for now," Tony started as his AI's voice cut through his daze. Heading toward his kitchen, he wondered if the god had come to finish what he started, almost hoping he had. He knew he should be surprised at Loki's arrival, knew that he should be afraid, should have told JARVIS to alert SHIELD, as no one had seen hide nor hair of the god for a hear and a half, since the invasion. For some reason, he wasn't.

"So, how about that drink? Didn't get a chance after your little encounter with Mean and Green, if I'm remembering correctly."

"Your mortal drink would hardly faze me, Stark, but I'll allow you to indulge," Loki murmured, facing away as Tony walked up to the cupboards. Pulling out a clean tumbler, he grabbed a bottle of… well, something—he wasn't particularly concerned with what he was giving his guest, to be honest—and poured two fingers into it, holding it out. "Order up, Reindeer Games. So, what brings you to my humble abode, this lovely afternoon? I'd say you came at a bad time, but really, when is it not with you?"

"Would you believe me if I said I had not come here to attack you?" Loki turned to Tony, carefully reaching toward the glass and accepting it, giving it a curious sniff before taking a long drink. "Weak, but bearable."

Tony eyed the god's face, noticing the dark circles beneath his eyes, the way his mouth pinched. This guy was exhausted. "Really? I was almost expecting another little experiment into the flight abilities of humans, only this time I'm not wearing my fancy bracelets." He was almost disappointed. "But really, you look like shit. Been getting your ass kicked in la-la-land? How did you get out, anyway? Do I need to call up Point Break to find out?"

Loki winced at the name. "The circumstances of my arrival in this pathetic realm are of no concern to you. I wish to find sanctuary for a matter of days while my magic recovers."

"Oh ho, so you're stuck. What's keeping me from calling the team in and sending you straight back to where you came from, then?"

"Curiousity."

Tony thought about this for a moment. It was true. He was a scientist, after all. Engineer, to be specific, but same thing. His life had always revolved around questions. How does this work? Can I make this better? Why is Loki out of magic and why did he come here? "You got me. But why here? Why appear in my kitchen? Maybe I wanted to team bond over afternoon tea at Chez Stark. Seems a little careless, Reindeer Games. Tsk, tsk." He watched as Loki downed the rest of his drink before setting down the glass and walking tiredly to the nearest chair. He was dressed in leather, but it didn't seem as flashy as what he had been wearing during the invasion. There was less gold. In fact, there was almost no metal. He didn't look nearly as intimidating in it.

"Because, Stark, you seemed the least likely to turn me in immediately. Your desire for knowledge is obvious and as I could offer so many possibilities, it seemed a wise choice. It seems that paying a visit to Barton or that woman of his would have ended badly for all involved, and I am not so stupid as to appear suddenly in the home of that wretched green thing. I would have thought this to be obvious to you. I suppose I overestimated your intellect, but then I suppose Barton's limited knowledge of your life centered mostly around something about you being a 'genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.' I suppose our standards of genius differ."

"Whoa, hey there, bud. I'll have you know I'm the smartest person _in_ this 'realm'-"

"Then I certainly do pity you all."

"You know, for a guy who wants a safe place to chill, you're really making the best impression."

"Would you like me to apologize for insulting your meager intellect?"

"Fuck you, it's not meager. And yes. An apology would be appropriate, if not entirely accept-" Tony stopped short, realizing suddenly that not only had the love of his life just walked out on him, but he was now almost civilly bickering with the God of Mischief, the same god who had almost destroyed New York less than two years ago and he wasn't even tipsy.

"I can't handle this shit right now." Tony set down his own glass and walked out of the room, leaving a baffled god sitting alone at his island.

"Mr. Odinson, may I be of any assistance to you?"

Loki started at the mysterious voice and peered at the ceiling, trying to locate the source. Scowling, he said "Laufeyson. Not Odinson. That man is no more my father than he is my king. And where does your voice come from?"

"My apologies, Mr. Laufeyson. I am JARVIS, Mr. Stark's artificial intelligence system, installed throughout the house. If there is anything you may require, I shall endeavor to be of service to you."

"I see. Very good. Is there a place where I might rest in this building?" Loki was fading fast, the attempt his magic was making at recovering was draining his energy quickly. Stark had left him alone, and while this was to Loki, as Stark should not have been so flippant about him being there, as their last encounter had involved Loki defenestrating the man, he was not going to question it at the moment. Stark seemed different this encounter than he has before and while it was a curious change, Loki's priorities lied in other places.

"There is a couch through the doorway to your left, sir, if that would be acceptable to you."

"Thank you, JARVIS. You seem to be a competent servant," Loki said, dragging himself out of his chair and making his way to the large, black, leather sofa in Tony's living room. Settling himself into the soft cushions and intending only to rest, he quickly found himself dozing off into a fitful sleep with the sound of the raining hitting the windows in the background.

* * *

A/N: Honestly, I don't really know why this started or where it's going. The chapters will get longer but I don't know what the update schedule will be like. It shouldn't be too long between chapters, though. I haven't written in a long time, so I hope this isn't shit.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of its characters, as much as I would love to.

Thanks for the solid response to the first chapter! I really just haven't had it in me to write anything in a long time and the positive feedback makes me want to keep going.

* * *

Tony stumbled out of his workshop 24 hours later, having finished a series of upgrades on the Mark VIII. With the recently redesigned navigation system, the repulsors had needed to be recalibrated, along with a few other changes. Nothing too serious or time consuming, but Tony had been too distracted to sit at any one project long enough to finish it, everything taking longer than it should have to finish.

"JARVIS, be a pal and run system tests on the modifications," Tony mumbled, feeling like there was something he was forgetting as he walked up the stairs.

"Of course, sir."

With the nagging feeling that there was seriously something he should be remembering, maybe even worrying about, he wandered toward the kitchen, planning to get himself something to eat. Hopefully, there was some take out still in the fridge. Twenty three hours into his lab sessions JARVIS had helpfully reminded him that along with sleeping, eating was something that was generally necessary for survival. Sleep wasn't important to him. The incessant growling of his stomach was becoming a bit of a distraction, though. Minor problem, easily fixed, right? Maybe getting a little something in his stomach would help him figure out whatever it was he was forgetting.

Tony walked by the living room, stopping when he heard a sound. It sounded like someone was moving on his couch, cloth rustling over leather. That was crazy, though. Glancing over at the back of the couch, no one was sitting on it, nothing to worry about. No one else was in the tower right now, at least not in his personal floors. Pepper had left the previous day and JARVIS would have alerted him if someone had paid him a visit. He started walking again, putting it out of his mind. It was just the hunger making him hear things. Stranger things had happened, after all.

Opening the fridge, Tony grabbed a box of leftover Chinese before dumping it on a plate and throwing it into his modified microwave, letting JARVIS take care of the rest. It looked like he was having chow mein, this time, not that that was a bad things. Chow mein was never a bad thing in the world of Tony Stark. He grabbed a fork and headed back to the microwave, just as it beeped. Grabbing his plate, Tony walked back to his living room to eat on the couch. Grabbing one of his many tablets from the coffee table, he turned to sit down.

"…oh fuck." Tony dropped his chow mein.

"JARVIS. There is a super villain sleeping on my couch. Why is there a super villain sleeping on my couch?"

"I believe he was tired, sir." JARVIS drawled.

"And you didn't feel any sort of need to remind me that he was ON MY COUCH?" Tony snapped, vaguely remembering his brief conversation with the god the previous day. It wasn't the best time, so who could really blame Tony for forgetting something as small as Loki sitting in his living room. Looking down at the god, he did look pretty beat. The dark circles were still there and he was curled in on himself, sleeping soundly, by the look of it.

"Need I remind you that I am a computer, sir? I am unable to feel. I only assumed that as you instructed me not to inform the authorities of his presence, it was no longer an issue, at least for the time being. My apologies, sir."

Tony crouched by the couch, inspecting his guest. "How long has he been like this, JARV?"

"He has been asleep for proximately 23 hours and 43 minutes, since just after you left the room, yesterday."

"And he hasn't even moved? Not once? Damn, even I can't sleep that well." It was curious, really. While sleeping, Loki's face smoothed out, considerably. He almost looked innocent, even. All of the anger, the insanity, the jealousy was gone. He was actually kind of attractive, Tony had to admit. He may be a crazy god, but that didn't change the fact that a pretty face was a pretty face. It just meant that it was a pretty face that probably shouldn't be messed with.

He poked Loki's shoulder, briefly wondering if waking a sleeping god was a smart move. Maybe it was like that saying about letting sleeping dragons lie, or whatever. That was like… Napoleon, wasn't it? No, wait. That was Harry Potter. The Napoleon one had been something else on some weird television program a few years back. It turned out it didn't matter, either way, because poking Loki's shoulder did little. In fact, it did nothing.

Loki didn't even move. He just kept sleeping, breathing evenly, slowly, a few strands of hair moving gently with each breath that had fallen in front of his face.

"Well. This is awkward."

"Sir, may I remind you that Mr. Banner is arriving in 45 minutes to view your lab set up prior to his moving into the lower levels. "

"Oh, fuck. Yeah, that's a thing that's happening, isn't it?" Tony started, figuring it probably wouldn't be ideal for Bruce to walk into his living room with Loki still sleeping away on his couch. "I don't even understand what's happening right now and I don't think I want to take the time to figure it out. I think I'm going crazy. This guy needs to move, though." Tony felt like maybe he should be having a bigger reaction to this whole situation, still, but when did he ever do what was expected? Three months in captivity and the first thing he does it ask for a cheeseburger and a press conference. This wasn't really that unusual, if he thought about it.

Tony cautiously placed his hand on Loki's shoulder and shook, hoping he could stir the god, at least enough to get him to stumble somewhere else, preferably out of his life, but he would also settle for the guest bedroom down the hall, if it came to it. Loki, again, did nothing.

Getting a little annoyed, he shoved Loki's shoulder, hard. Loki finally moved, though only to turn over, swinging his arm over his body in the process, catching Tony's left arm on the way down.

"Fuck! That was heavy." Tony yelped. Loki's arm was like a club, and certainly felt heavier than a normal person's would have been. This wasn't looking good. It looked like Tony was going to have to put his back into this and do a little heavy lifting. It didn't help that Tony was already five inches shorter than the guy. Tony stood, preparing himself for what was about to come before bending over and trying to hook his arms under Loki's upper body to drag him off the couch. Counting to three, he lifted.

Grunting, he barely moved the god, only managing to get him up a few inches off the couch. A guy this skinny really shouldn't have weighed this much, but what did he know? Maybe gods were made of different stuff. Luckily, the few inches he managed were just enough to slip Loki forward until the rest of his body slid off of the leather couch and onto the floor. Amazingly, Loki didn't even twitch. Tony really hoped the guy wasn't like, dying or something. As much as he hated Loki, Tony didn't think Thor would be too happy with him if Loki died in his living room. It didn't seem particularly conducive toward staying alive, or at least alive and with the ability to walk.

Tony made a couple more attempts to move the god and decided to save himself a lot of trouble, putting on the suit and letting the hydraulics take care of the weight issue for him, picking him up easily and carrying him down the hall toward a spare room. He paused for a second, debating the merits of simply dropping him outside, maybe off the balcony. The guy could survive being slammed into the ground by Thor after jumping out of a plane _and_ being flung around by the Hulk like a ragdoll, so surely he could survive a fall from his balcony, right? He decided against it, though, and instead continued to the first bedroom he found and dropped Loki unceremoniously onto the bed.

* * *

Loki was dreaming. He was in a deep sleep, his body attempting to recover his magic leaving his mind unoccupied.

So he dreamed.

His dreams were nothing coherent, swirling nebulas and vague memories. There were fragments of conversations he'd had with his family, or at least the people who had raised him. He dreamt of mad Titans and flying leviathans that defied gravity. Loki dreamt of a man with stupid facial hair and a glowing circle in his chest. He dreamt of a clean cell, made of light colored stone. Cold walls, a light that never went out, those damned handcuffs that left his magic inaccessible and his wrists bruised and sore.

It was almost as if he viewed his dreams as a third party. He watched as the scenes in his mind played out, oddly peaceful as he watched himself bring about the destruction of that pitiful city on Midgard. He watched himself pace in that cell, watched himself contemplate breaking every bone in his hands if only to be free of his binds.

Vaguely, something tugged at his consciousness, trying to pull him out of his slumber, but he did not care for that idea, currently. Ignoring the pull, he immersed himself in his mind once more, allowing his subconscious to wash over him.

* * *

"Sir, Mr. Banner is in the elevator."

"Perfect timing!" Tony had taken off the suit and was just about done cleaning up his dropped plate of chow mein from the floor.

The elevator dinged and a slightly uncomfortable Bruce Banner stepped out, glancing up at the doorframe as he walked out.

"What's got your panties in a twist, good doctor?" Tony strode over to greet Bruce.

"Small, enclosed spaces and I don't have the best track record, if you recall..."

"Well then! You might want to work on that if you've moving into my humble abode. But I guess I could also show you the service elevator. It's a little bigger, you know? Gotta get the spare cars in _somehow_."

"Yeah. So, uh, where should we start, then?" Bruce wrung his hands and looked around. He'd brought a couple small duffel bags with him. It had taken Tony over a year to convince Bruce to join him in the tower. Until now, Bruce had been living on the move, travelling and volunteering his medical services in rural areas, avoiding crowds, only surfacing for the occasional Avengers mission. He didn't have all that many possessions because of it and he was getting tired of always moving. Having a stable place to live was a welcome change, he thought.

"Actually, before we start the tour, I have a bit of a situation to run by you. Nothing serious." Tony figured he should probably tell Bruce about his house guest if the man was about to be living here, as well. He would be Bruce's house guest, then, as well.

"Oh, well, I hope I can help?" Bruce looked a little confused.

"So, hypothetically speaking, suppose a guy, say, someone on SHEILD's top five most wanted, showed up at your house and passed out and stayed that way for like… a day or two. And you maybe forgot to tell SHIELD about it but now it's to the point that if you tell them, they'll wonder why you waited so long and it'll results in _way_ too many boring talks and Fury getting angry while I sit at a table and play Galaga or hack their security or something. What would you do?"

"…what?" Bruce rubbed him temples. "Are you telling me that someone came to your house and you hid them and just let them sleep here for a while and walk out?"

"That depends on what you would do." Tony quipped.

"Maybe I should remove myself from this situation. Is living here really a good idea? I don't want to cause any problems."

"Whoa. Nope, you're staying. Mean and Green, included. I've remodeled enough, what's a few more times. But anyway, what would you do."

"…well, I guess if this… someone was desperate enough to come to the home of an Avenger and fall asleep in front of him for that long, I would check him over and try to make sure he was okay before doing much else. Why not call SHIELD?"

"Aside from all of the boring talks and lectures and debriefings, I mean, what would they even do with, let alone to, the guy? Have you seen the reports on their freaky interrogation shit?" While Tony certainly didn't want the god staying any longer than he needed to, Tony didn't think anyone deserved some of the shit SHIELD dealt. It was borderline torture, and even the worst scum of the earth didn't deserve that.

"I can't say that I have, and I'm sure you weren't supposed to, either, but I guess that's valid point. I guess I would just work on making sure he's not injured."

"Oh, cool. Then he's down the hall through the third door on the left."

* * *

A/N: A second chapter! So, I've got a little bit of this fic plotted out, now, and it's looking like it could actually turn into something pretty cool. Sorry that it's a little slow moving right now. Once Loki stops sleeping the days away it'll pick up, I promise.

I don't think updates will be this fast after this coming week, because I'm going back down to college and will actually be doing things like classes and all that jazz.

Thank you all so much for the positive feedback! Feel free to leave any suggestions for things to include in the comments if there's anything you really want to see and I'll consider it all!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of its characters.

Thanks again for the positive response! I love love love reviews and you guys are all wonderful.

* * *

"Tony, why?" Bruce stood in the doorway of the guest room, glancing warily between Tony and the sleeping god lying in a heap, haphazardly covered with a blanket—Tony didn't want the god to get cold, or anything….

"Well, I mean, so far he hasn't really done anything. Except sleep. Didn't seem that dangerous. He did tell me he was just looking for a 'safe space' or whatever. Then again, God of Lies. But so far he hasn't done anything except drool on my best couch. I even like, dropped the fucker on the floor and he kept sleeping. Seems pretty harmless right now."

"…you _dropped_ him?" Bruce shook his head. This was ridiculous. He knew Tony was prone to making stupid, rash decisions, but really? Housing their number one enemy, the guy who had tried to take over the world?

"Hey, don't look at me like that. The guy weighs like 600 pounds. He slipped! But anyway, can you, like, see if he's okay or something? Don't people usually need to eat and shit? Or take a shit, for that matter?" Tony poked his head around Bruce, looking into the room. Loki hadn't moved an inch from where he'd set him down. "Mean and Green is under control, right? I don't think he's up to another smashing right now."

"Yeah, the other guy isn't going anywhere right now. I'm surprised you didn't check that sooner, though, with Loki being your 'someone.'" Bruce stepped timidly into the room, cautiously approaching the sleeping god, hoping he wouldn't wake up while Bruce was examining him.

"Oh, don't even worry about tip toeing, man. Guy's out like a light." Tony strode over the Loki, picking up an arm and dropping it, Loki not even stirring.

"Ah." Bruce set to work.

* * *

"It seems like everything's fine. Honestly, if you hadn't said he'd been like this for a day already, I would say he was just taking a quick nap. A very deep nap." Bruce entered the living room, walking toward Tony as he lounged on the couch.

"Fantastic. Thanks."

"What are you going to do with him, Tony? You can't just keep him here until he wakes up and hope no one finds out?"

"Why not? I wanna know what the guy has to say so I'm keeping him until he returns to the world of the living. SHIELD can go fuck themselves, it's not like they can even get in here, that one time with Phil notwithstanding." Tony was still bitter about that and hadn't yet managed to figure out how the agent had gotten in. He was pretty sure Phil hadn't told anyone else, though, so he was letting it go for the time being.

"Tony." Bruce fixed him with a stare. "You can't keep him here. It may have been a year and a half, but his mind is still a bag of cats. You have no idea what he could do when he wakes up."

"It's fine. I'll just keep the bracelets on and everything will be okay. Worst case scenario, JARVIS catches me again. Now. How about that tour?" Tony stood up, grabbing Bruce by the shoulder and leading him back toward the elevator.

* * *

Loki opened his eyes. Disoriented, he sat up quickly, looking around. He was in a soft bed that he didn't recognize. There was little in this room, just the bed, some sort of wardrobe, and a small table, but what there was looked sleek and carefully chosen.

One entire wall of this room was made of windows, affording a rather spectacular view of a city, the same city he had come to destroy before. He appeared to be very high off the ground…

Ah, yes. Stark's building. He had come here after escaping that horrid prison. He was actually surprised that the prison had been able to hold him for this long, but that was something to dwell on at a later time. Loki was fairly certain he had not made it as far as a bed, and he was sure he hadn't bothered to cover himself. How curious, that Stark would extend such a courtesy to one who had not only tried to kill him, but had tried to enslave his entire planet. Loki could ask about it later, if it was really that important, but at the moment there were more pressing matters to attend to, things like food and bathing. It seemed as though Stark had not called his team or SHIELD, or he was sure he would no longer be in this building, let alone free to move about.

With this knowledge Loki stood, feeling much stronger with his magic once again rushing through his veins, and headed toward one of the two doors attached to this room, one of which Loki assumed must be a washroom. Finding it, he stepped in, looking at the curious set up of this room. There was clearly the Midgardian version of a toilet, a little short in his opinion, and then there was some sort of tub on the far end with what looked like glass doors closing it off. There was also a nozzle coming out of the wall above the tub that Loki assumed sprayed water. It was unlike anything washroom he had seen in Asgard. Most baths there were shared and toilets were kept very separate.

Approaching the tub, he looked at the handles on the wall, turning one and causing hot water to spray out of the high up nozzle, the spray catching the side of his head. He jerked back quickly.

"That would be the shower, sir." JARVIS spoke, one of the cameras having noticed Loki's distress. Loki started at the voice.

"How does one use it with this tub?"

"It is commonly used for bathing while standing, sir. It is much more efficient than a traditional bath and one does not need to sit in their own filth while attempting to wash oneself."

"How very Midgardian... Sacrificing pleasure for speed. I suppose it would be wise to be quick, though." Loki did not want to get caught off guard if Stark came to 'check up' on him or some such thing while he thought he was sleeping. Loki wondered how long he had been sleeping. Surely, it couldn't have been more than a day or two.

Peeling off his leathers, Loki set his things in a neat pile on the counter and stepped under the warm spray, letting months of dirt and grime rinse off of his body and down the drain. He eyed the bottles sitting on the edge of the tub and rifled through them until he found products that smelled suitably clean and began to wash.

* * *

Bruce had been thoroughly impressed by the labs Tony had set up for him. He hadn't really gotten a look at Tony's own labs, only having been in them for a few minutes at a time before. Tony liked to keep his work pretty private with all of the SHIELD attention the team had been getting, and it didn't help that Tony was still a little wary of the other guy getting loose in the middle of all of his tech after everyone had seen what he did to the helicarrier and Tony's living room. Bruce figured that since he was actually moving in, things were different, now.

Tony had actually gone as far as converting half of another level of his tower into special labs just for Bruce, ordering equipment he though Bruce might like and installing new projectors and screens everywhere for ease of use. Bruce was stunned. Tony had shown him around, acting like it was nothing, going so far as to mention that if there was anything, literally anything at all, that he needed all he had to do was ask JARVIS to order it and it was done. Price didn't matter. Bruce being comfortable did.

He was a little overwhelmed. Really, he'd never had anything nearly this nice in his life. He'd worked in some pretty nice labs before, but the combination of nice equipment with the best Stark tech in the world was above and beyond. Tony had really gone all out on making this place perfect for him. Sometimes Bruce wondered why Tony had pushed him to love here so hard. Secretly, he thought Tony might be lonely living in this tower by himself, sometimes having Pepper for company, but really, that was about it. Bruce wouldn't mention anything, of course. The man had so much pride it was palpable, so for now, Bruce would just be grateful. It really was an amazing opportunity and it had been a long time since someone who knew about the other guy had really trusted him enough to let him into their lives enough to want to actually spend time with him, let alone live around him. Beneath the ego and sarcasm and the alcohol, Tony truly was an amazing friend to Bruce.

Currently, Bruce was unpacking his two duffels into the drawers in the bedroom of his suite, complete with mini kitchen, living room, bed and bath. He was 4 floors below Tony's penthouse and the main living areas, with the levels of labs separating them. Tony had wandered back up to his main floor, saying something about a phone call and food.

* * *

Tony was back upstairs, staring at his phone. He had a voicemail from Pepper. It had been waiting for him for a few hours now, but Tony couldn't seem to bring himself to check it just yet. He knew that Pepper was right in leaving him. He wasn't going to give up being Iron Man, he couldn't.

He knew that Pepper went through a lot, having to watch her boyfriend and boss almost get killed every few weeks. That couldn't be good for someone, and Tony knew that. He respected her decisions. That didn't mean he was ready to come to terms with that. She had been his one. He had really thought that. They had made it over two years, far longer than any of Tony's other relationships.

He knew it was inevitable.

He was so tempted to just delete the voicemail without reading it, just forget that it even existed and then forget his own existence in the bottom of a bottle, but he knew he would have to listen to it eventually. Knew there would be another if he got rid of this one, or maybe an email or a text. Pepper may have left him, but she still cared and he knew that. She wanted him to be okay. This was her way of showing that. Somehow, it didn't make it any easier.

Putting the voice mail out of his mind, he walked to the fridge, grabbing a carton of eggs and some condiments, setting in to make himself an omelette. He was glad that Bruce had liked his labs and hoped that he would feel at home, here. It was nice to have someone else in the tower, especially now that Pepper was gone. It got a little lonely at times. Sure, Tony was kind of a shut-in and he had his robots, but there were times when that didn't cut it. There were some times when he really just needed another person around. Just to know someone was there, that someone liked him enough to want to be near him. Someone to prove that he had some value.

Cracking a few eggs into a bowl, he set to work. He may not have been much of a chef, but omelettes were one thing he did right.

* * *

Stepping out of the shower and grabbing one of the towels conveniently hung on the wall nearby, Loki quickly dried off his body, scrubbing at his hair with maybe just a little more force than was necessary. He wrapped the towel around his waist and was about to figure out the clothes situation when he stopped in front of the mirror, giving himself a good look.

He looked thin. Thinner than he would have liked. He had always been on the leaner side, nothing like his oaf of a brother, but his ribs didn't normally stick out this much, and his hips weren't usually this thin. His eyes looked tired, though the dark circles were gone. That was a relief, at least. Could have been much worse.

Looking at his clothing, Loki realized that most of his things were reasonably dirty. It seemed like a waste of a shower to immediately step back into his dirty things but it wasn't as though he had any other option. He was doubtful that there would be anything in the wardrobe, let alone anything that would fit him. Stark was puny.

Settling on just his basic clothing, he pulled on his undershirt. It was a light thing, thin black fabric lined with a deep green cotton, with a bit of a collar and long sleeves. It was comfortable enough. His pants, however, were black leather, worn and soft from wear, but still not as comfortable as he would have liked, at the moment. He would have to make due. He wasn't going to waste his magic on conjuring new pants. While it took almost nothing to mask the appearance of his clothes, to fabricate something from nothing took a bit more. Tony Stark was, and had always been, unpredictable. Loki couldn't know if he was going to need his magic or not and he wasn't going to take any chances. He magicked the rest away into a pocket of space and readied himself.

Loki left the bathroom, readying himself for his venture out of this room. He was rather starving after having not eaten in a few weeks and while he could go much longer, still, he would really rather eat something and he was certain Stark would have plenty enough food to share.

He crossed the bedroom and stepped out through the door into the hallway, looking for something familiar. The sofa he had rested on was down the hall, so he started off. As he neared the living room, he smelled something akin to breakfast foods, coming from the kitchen he has appeared in. So someone was already preparing food. Well, Loki knew his hope that he would be able to grab something to satiate his hunger and then leave without being noticed was futile. Even if all had gone as he'd wanted, Loki was sure that damn computer would have given him away at some point.

"Sir, it appears that Mr. Odinson has left his room." Ah, yes. There it was. Loki winced at the named the computer had used.

"Reindeer Games is up?! Since when? Why didn't you tell me? My own computer, betraying me. I'm shocked, JARV. Well, what is he doing, then?" Tony voice sounded from the doorway to the kitchen. Loki hesitated for a moment, unsure of what action to take, before setting his resolve and striding purposefully toward the kitchen.

"Perhaps you should not rely so heavily on a machine, Stark, and observe your surroundings more carefully." Loki snapped. "And computer, I do not go by that title any longer. I am Loki Laufeyson. You would do well to remember this."

"SHIT." Tony jumped a bit, not expecting Loki to actually be in his kitchen all of a sudden. "Scared me, there." Tony turned to Loki, eyeing him and his state of, well, undress compared to what the guy was usually wearing. "What happened to the drapes?" It was much harder to find the guy at all intimidating with wet hair hanging around his face and looking like he was just lounging around the house, albeit wearing vaguely uncomfortable looking pants.

"My formal leathers are rather dirty and I was not going to soil myself so quickly after having bathed. Surely, even one so low as yourself could understand that. Do not take my lack of armor as a sign of my weakness." Loki arched an eyebrow at Stark, who had almost entirely forgotten about the pan he was supposed to be attending. "I do believe your food is close to burning."

"Ah!" Tony turned back to his omelette and flipped it neatly onto a nearby plate. "Good call, Reindeer Games. That was a close one." Glancing at the god, Tony noticed the way he was subtly eyeing the food and remembered that Loki hadn't eaten for a few days, at least. "Hey, do you want anything while we're in here? I have more than a few questions before you while you're here, and I guess I would be a terrible host if I didn't at least offer you something to eat in exchange for you cooperation. Then again, maybe you owe me for letting you stay here and not calling my friends. You are one heavy motherfucker, did you know that? I had to put on the suit just to move your ass to the guestroom. Thought for sure I was going to scratch the couch in the process and almost had a heart attack." Tony was rambling.

"Yes. I would like something to eat. Meat, if you have it. Do you ever stop talking?"

"Rarely. And I think I have some left over ribs from the other night. How hungry are you?" Tony turned away and mused to himself, "what the hell? Giving him the ribs? Agh, too late now. Already offered, I guess…"

"Starving. It has been a matter of weeks since I was last given sustenance."

Tony gaped. "Weeks? And here I thought going a few days in the lab was bad." Turning to the fridge, he grabbed as many take out cartons as he could find and headed to the microwave. As each item was done, he passed it along to the god, with a few napkins and a fork. Loki chose to ignore the fork for the most part, using his hands for everything. It was more efficient, Tony supposed. After Afghanistan, Tony had eaten finger food for a long while. Maybe it was something about tangibility? Being able to touch your food? It was probably just Tony's love for burgers and pizza, though, if he was being totally honest with himself.

After Loki had finished stuffing his face for the time being and downed a couple glasses of water, he certainly looked much better than he had. He had perked up a little, and Tony noticed that his face looked much better, not that he hadn't been gorgeous before. The dark circles were gone.

"So, let's talk."

* * *

A/N: So, I guess from here on out updates will get a little weird. I'm back to that whole classes thing and that'll be eating a lot of my daytime, so maybe I'll just be able to plot stuff out during lectures and get it done in the evenings.

I feel like this is really slow moving and I'm sorry about that. I'll try to work on picking up the pace. Thanks for the feedback! I'd love to hear anything you have to say or suggest about the story. I already know how I want this to end, however long it takes to get there. I'm just working on figuring out the whole middle section. Hahah.


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